


Oil & Turtles

by Nochuboi



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Halloween, High School, Mentioned Armin Arlert, Mentioned Jean Kirstein, Multi, Reiner Braun & Annie Leonhart Are Related, Step-Brothers, Step-parents, Step-siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26143873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nochuboi/pseuds/Nochuboi
Summary: Just an 'Over the Garden Wall' version with aot/snk charactersbecause I watch Over the Garden Wall religiously every year (at least once) for about 3 years now.And somehow I just realized that Wirt reminds me of Bertholdt, like a lot...so that's how I got to writing this.(Go watch Over the Garden Wall if you haven't yet) (spoilers: it's very good or at least it should be interesting)
Relationships: Bertolt Hoover/Annie Leonhart, Carla Yeager/Grisha Yeager, Marco Bott & Bertolt Hoover, Moblit Berner/Hange Zoë
Kudos: 4





	1. Episode 1 Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: there is a lot of stuttering and I have zero intention of disrespecting anyone with a stutter in real life...or any other similar conditions. 
> 
> if anything makes you angry or uncomfortable, please educate me by commenting and I will remove or rewrite that part of the story. 
> 
> any misspellings are intentional. Most lines are taken from the original cartoon so credit to the creators for those lines. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story! :)

_Ribbit_ _Ribbit_

“Ribbit Ribbit..” Bertholdt sighs and rolls his eyes as his ‘brother’ imitates a toad’s cry.

“Marc...stop, and take that pot off of your head…” 

“O..Bert, i-i-it’s m-m-m-my costshume…” 

“So? It makes you look dumber than you already are..” Bertholdt sighed deeply, stopping in his tracks to look around. 

“Mr.T..Toad thinks...that y..ur. comment is..s..mean…” His brother held the toad up to Bertholdt’s face, it smelt of must and swamp water. Yuck. 

“Ugh, get the frog outta my face..” Bertholdt forcefully shoved the _toad_ away from his face. 

“W...wa.tcha lo...okin..at?” The sixteen-year-old asked his older brother. 

“Marco, we’re in the freakin’ woods, what are we even doing here?!” Bertholdt harshly grabbed Marco by the shoulder, his face full of worry, his hands were jittery and shaky on the younger one’s shoulder. 

“H..ey..you said...i-i-it..correctly..” Marco tries to slow his speech to avoid stuttering. 

“That doesn’t matter right now…” Bertholdt grabbed onto his hair in stress. “Why are we here?” 

“(We got) Lost..I..gu..guess” 

“W..we..should have left..a trail or something.” Bertholdt felt himself stuttering as well, You could say it runs in the household. 

“I...got..ca..candy,” Marco said, lifting up the pot on his head, Bertholdt’s jaws dropped as he saw candy piled up on his brother’s raven black hair. 

“You..you stole the candy? Where did you get it? You’re too old for this Marc!” Bertholdt was back to calling his brother a name that Marco despises. 

“Mrs.Blouse gave it to me, ok? Do you want me to be rude and say no?! And stop calling me that, it’s not my name!” It was the first time that Bertholdt had heard his calm and timid brother full-on yell and also not stutter was actually somewhat refreshing…

He sounded clear and crisp, almost intimidating even. He swore if Marco didn’t have a stutter he would be jumping classes by now. 

“Woah there, calm down…” Bertholdt defensively puts his hand up and backs away. 

An awkward pause was present until Bertholdt heard something in the distance. “Did you hear that?” 

The boys cautiously moved to a nearby bush, Listening closely to the sound. “W..ho’s..th..at?” Marco asked as the sound of wood chopping rang through their ears. 

“Marc, what's the possibility that some kind of deranged lunatic with an ax, is waiting out there in the darkness for innocent victims?” Bertholdt clearly needed some sleep. 

“It’s so...sounds..rike s..somewon choppin’ wood...” Marco quickly eyed Bertholdt before moving closer to where the sound was emanating from. 

“Hey!” Bertholdt whispered-shouted as he hurried after his brother. 

“Marc, you’re gonna get us in trouble again…” 

“‘Marc’ sounds like a very troublesome guy...” Marco mutters fluently, of course, his speech came out sounding robotic as he tries his hardest not to stutter. All the while looking at the man that was making the noise. 

“Fuck your speech impediment, Marc. Why can’t you just talk normally? You know, make it easier for both of us.” 

“Yeah...tell me that when you break a leg and I tell you to go walk a mile..” Again, without stuttering, Marco fired back. 

Bertholdt just let out a snicker as he too observed the man, who was humming aloud as he picked up the last batch of his wood. 

“W-w-we s..hould..assk..him..fur..help.” Marco was back to stuttering. 

“ _No_ , we should _not_ ask him for help.” 

“But-” 

“Shh.” Marco was cut off as Bertholdt put a finger to his mouth. “No, you..shh.” The boys bickered, but the woodsman had other things to do.

Picking up his lantern, with wood on his back. The woodsman returns to his mill. 

As the light source began to dim, the boys stopped their bickering. 

“Shoot, ya think we should have asked him for help?” Bertholdt asked with his hands now on Marco’s mouth. 

“Yur dumbie..” Marco mumbles over Bertholdt’s hand as he tries to pry it off of his face. 

“Maybe I can help you..” A female voice rang through the boys’ ears making them both frantically try to look for the owner. 

“I mean, you guys are lost...right?” The voice continued, it seems to be coming from up in the trees. 

“Ooh..” Bertholdt gasps, slapping himself in the face. Unable to comprehend a seemingly _talking_ _bird_ , perched on the tree next to them. 

“What in the world is going on here?” He asked himself. 

“...w-we’re..the woo..woods, an..anything could..hap..pen.” 

“Aren’t you in honors science? You know this is totally crazy, impossible that a bird is talking to us right now!” 

“We..well there’s..not..thing..yet to..disprove..that..a..bird.. _can’t_...t..talk.” 

“No, Marc. A bird’s brain is not big enough to comprehend speech...sorta like yours.” Bertholdt has gotta add the last part in, didn’t he...

“What?!” Marco yelled out, rightfully offended. 

“Yeah, what was that?” The bird also took offense to what Bertholdt said. 

“Oh..well..um, I’m just saying..you’re weird, y’all, not ‘normal’...” As Bertholdt attempted to explain himself to the bird, Marco was already over being offended and was now observing a very interesting turtle. That decided to crawl up the log that they were hiding behind. 

_[why is there black stuff on you, little guy?]_ Marco thought to himself as he tried to smudge off the black substance covering the turtle. Making the turtle retract back into its shell. 

_[Soot?]_ he thought as he brushed the ‘soot’ off of his cuffs. 

“I..I..mean..” His older brother was still rambling to the bird. “Oh my gosh, stop talking to it, Bert…” 

“‘It?’” The bird raised its wings, about to fly away. As the shadow behind the two boys gets bigger and bigger. 

Bertholdt felt a tug on his arm, probably from Marco as the shadow covers both of them, and the bird he was talking to was flying away. 

“What...what is it?” Bertholdt turns around, meeting eyes with the large figure in front of them. 

Perspective: the boys are kneeling down behind the log, okay? Cuz Bert is a freaking 192cm almost 17-year-old giant. 

“What are you doing here?!” The figure brought his lantern close to the boys, it was the woodsman from earlier. 

“Explain yourselves!” Both of the boys gasp in surprise and horror. 

“Woah Woah! There mister, whatever you do here is your business, w-we just wanna get home with all of our arms and legs attached.” Bertholdt spat out in a panic, clutching onto Marco's shoulder. 

“These woods are no place for children!” The woodsman squinted his eyes at them. 

“A..actually we’re teens-” Bertholdt tries to correct but is stopped mid-sentence. 

“That doesn’t matter! At my age, anyone under 25 should be sitting in a crib! Get out of here, don’t you know the beast is afoot here?!” 

“Zaa...beast?!” Marco repeated. 

“W-w-we don’t know anything about that…M-m-me and my brother are just two lost kids trying to get home..” Bertholdt started to back away, pulling Marco with him by the shoulder. 

“Well, welcome to the unknown, boys. You’re more lost than you realize.” 

Bertholdt’s vision began to morph, trees looked like faces and animal cries sounded like something out of a horror movie. 

This is worse than a nightmare. 


	2. Episode 1 Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The woodsman takes the boys in and leaves prematurely for the boys to reflect on their past.

“I found this homestead abandoned, and repurposed its mill for m-m-my own needs…” The woodsman shivers over the fireplace. 

As Bertholdt sat on the nearby couch while Marco was busy chasing around his toad. 

“You and your brother should be safe here while I work.”

“Bert, I-I loss ma toad..hwere did h-he go?” Marco and his 16-year-old ass pouted, it still looked cute though. 

“Don’t bother...” Bertholdt was relieved that maybe he’ll be free from the horrid stench of the swamp creature. 

“I-I-I know, I’ll l-leave himm a candy trailw.” Marco's eyes lit up at his genius idea, swiftly taking out candy from his shorts and from under the pot on his head. Started lining the candy from the door and into the house. 

Bertholdt cringes, watching his brother acting like a little kid. Wondering if Marco has some other condition besides his speech impediment. 

“What-what is your work, exactly?” 

“Everyone has a torch to burn, and this here’s mine.” The old woodsman answered, patting on his lantern. 

“I grind the horrid Edelwood trees into oil to keep this lantern lit.” He continues, grabbing one Edelwood stick for the hordes on his back, tightly gripping it in his hands. 

“This is my lot in life, this is my burden…” He went on and on. 

“Marc, this guy’s looney. Maybe we should make a break for it if we can.” Bertholdt whispered, crouching down to his brother’s level. 

“...but he must know these woods pretty well, so...maybe we should knock him out first..” 

“But we’re both grown teens...if we knock him out, we’ll be charged and maybe even go to juvenile. I-i-I don’t wanna go to juvenile, w-what do we do then Marco?” Bertholdt pulled his brother up to a standing position. 

“J-just hwait it out...he d-doesn’t seem s-s-soo bad..” 

“Doesn’t  _ seem _ so bad? That doesn’t mean that he’s good, Marc.” Bertholdt pinches Marco in the arm and is slapped in the chest in return. 

“Ouch..what was that for?” Bertholdt growled, looking as Marco’s mouth formed a smirk. 

“For pinching me for no apparent reason…” Marco confidently whispered, now raising one of his eyebrows. 

“What are you boys whispering about?” The boys’ movement stiffens at the voice of the woodsman. 

“We were talking about running away when you weren’t-” Bertholdt quickly covered Marco’s mouth before the sentence was finished. 

The man sighs as he stands up. “Leave if you wish…” 

“But remember, the beast haunts these woods, ever singing his mournful melody...in search of lost souls such as yourselves!” The woodsman taunts the boys, In hope for them to get away. 

But the boys won’t budge. 

“huh..I have work to do in the mill...when I’m finished I will do what I can to guide you back home if you are still here when I return…” slamming the door in their faces, making the candy that Marco had neatly put by the door scatter everywhere. 

“I guess..we could just leave…but I don’t know...” Bertholdt scratched his chin, then went on to scratch his damp hair under his dunce hat. 

“Marc,” Bertholdt called.

“.....” But no response from Marco. 

“Where-” Bertholdt looked around for Marco. “Oh...there you are…” He said watching Marco pick up a piece of wood, walking over to the fireplace. 

“Do you think there really is a beast out there?” Bertholdt asked as Marco walked past him. 

“...or is-is that guy messing with us?” The fire grew bigger as Marco threw the block of wood into it. 

Sitting down next to the fire, unwrapping one of his lollipops and sucking on it. 

"I mean...he could have done away with us by now." Bertholdt sat back down on the couch. 

As Marco listened to Bertholdt rambles, quickly biting his lollipop into pieces and then throwing the wrapper and the stick into the fire. 

"If that was his plan...and he lit that fire. That's pretty nice..." 

“Sure..” Marco finally responded, Bertholdt sounded like a lunatic at this point...talking to himself and all. 

“I guess it’s possible there’s a beast out there…” Bertholdt flops himself onto the woodsman’s couch by the fire. 

“....since there was a talking bird, but-” he continued, removing his hat off of his head. 

Sighing he turned away, his face facing the back of the couch. “Sometimes...I feel like I’m just like a boat...upon a winding river, twisting towards an endless black sea...blah blah blah…” Bertholdt went on and on. 

Marco couldn’t care less, picking back up his candy, putting it back into his shorts, and hiding some over his head, covering it with his pot that he ‘stole’ from his stepmother. 

“Further and further, drifting away...from where I want to be,  _ who _ I want to be…” Bertholdt turned around looking at the back of his brother, Marco’s hair glowed a brownish tint from the blazing fire in the room. Now sitting with his back turned away from Bertholdt. 

“Stop talk..talkin’ nonsense..ur..making my brai..brain me..lt” Marco looks to be digging into his pocket, in search of something.

“S-sasha told me th-this at lunch, sh-she calls zit a ‘rock fack’.” Marco proclaimed, pulling out a rock with a cartoonish drawn-on face from the pocket of his denim shorts. 

"She said...t-that if cha put a rai-raison in grape j-j-juice it'll turn bacc into a gra-grape. Prettae weared but I'll t-try it w-w-when we get back home..." 

“Sasha? Like the girl who’s with that bald kid all the time?” Marco nodded, but still refused to turn around to face Bertholdt.

“But isn’t she a junior? How do you know her?” 

"W-why do ya ca..care so much anyway? Didn't cha re-re-remem...ber what you said ta me?" 

"What? What did I say?" Bertholdt sat up on the couch. 

**//Flashback//**

“Bertholdt, meet your future father and brother..” 

The tall man sitting in front of Bertholdt was who he assumed to be his future stepfather. 

His mother has been divorced since he was five, with no recollection of how his actual father was, he was craving some needed attention from a fatherlike figure. 

The man tipped his hat to Bertholdt and said. “It’s nice to finally meet you…My name is Dante Bodt.” Flashing a warm smile at the boy. 

“Oh, where’s Marco?” Bertholdt looks up at his mother as she asked, genuinely curious of who this Marco person is.

“Haha...come out Marco…” The man chuckles as he turns to look for his son. 

“He seems to be good at hiding..” Bertholdt’s mother commented, getting up to help look for the kid.

Bertholdt sat back on the couch, watching as two fully grown 30 something-year-olds play hide and seek with a kid...or so he assumes. 

He hoped for an older brother, someone he could look up to, with the stress of school (even though he was only 7 at the time) he didn’t want to be an example to a younger person. 

Tensions were high at his elementary school (for some reason). Everyone wanted or had a cool older sibling or a competent younger one. Kids would rave about how cool, smart, or well behaved their siblings were. 

_ [why can’t they just focus on themselves...matter what happens I’mma treat this kid with respect...no putting him up on a pedestal or pushing him down…] _

Bertholdt remembers thinking to himself. 

“There you are.” He heard Mr.Bodt say from the kitchen. 

_ [what? Like did he hide in the oven or something?] _

“Why were you in the cabinet honey?” hearing his mother ask. 

_ [close enough...] _

He looks up to see a small boy tugging on his father’s jacket as the three return to the living room. 

Well small relative to Bertholdt, Marco was at average height. 

Marco was like a photocopy of his father, Black hair, Brown eyes, even down to the freckles on his face. 

“Say hi, Marco.” Mr.Bodt ushered. 

Without saying a word, Marco just waved, even his smile is reminiscent of his father. 

“Sorry but my son has dysphemia, or in more simple terms, he stutters and stammers through his words a lot.” 

“Don’t say sorry, you know it’s not yours’ or his fault, we’ll just have to get used to the stuttering.” 

A silence was present as no one knew what to say next. 

“Um...so you’re marrying him?” Bertholdt asked his mother, breaking the silence. 

“Oh..yes, I think it’s about time…” Bertholdt’s mother, Hanna left out a small chuckle. 

“What?” Dante asked. 

“W-why ya laufing, i-iz some’in f-f-funny?” Marco’s speech sounded like a three-year-old child. It was cute...at least back then. Climbing onto his father’s shoulder like a child, Sheepishly smiling at Hanna. 

_ [How old is he? Probably not much younger than I am...what a child...] _

“I’m pregnant.” 

_ [What? Did I hear that right?]  _

The three males looked at Hanna, their eyes wide with shock. 

Shortly his mother was celebrating with Marco and his father. As Bertholdt sat there thinking. 

_ [All their attention is going to go to the baby...and I’ll be the one looking after Marco...great…] _

“Hey, hey, come here.” Bertholdt gestured to Marco to come closer, separating him from their celebrating parents. 

“yeah…” 

“How old are you?” 

“S..shixx.” Marco answered, holding up six fingers for Bertholdt to better understand. 

“Six? You were born in 1998?” Marco nodded. 

“You should act your age, Marc…” Marco's face drops as Bertholdt says ‘Marc’, oh, and also about the insult. 

“I-I con’t he-lp it…” 

“Then don’t talk at all…” Marco just walks away from Bertholdt, his fist in a ball. As he went back to his dad’s car and sat there until they returned home. 

How could his stepbrother say that...when he had no idea how it was to have Marco’s condition. 

**//End of Flashback//**

“M-maybe... _ you _ s-s-should have ac-acted yur age…” Marco felt a lump in his throat like he was about to cry. 

“Really? I was only 7…that was a decade ago.” Bertholdt crossed his arms, unwilling to admit his faults. 

“You’re..still a j-jerk n-now any..way.” 

Bertholdt sighed, flopping back onto the couch. “Why don’t you go look for that frog? You and the frog seem to go well together instead of bothering your time with me…” 

“Itz a toad! Dumass.” Marco stomped out of the house, slamming the door behind him. 

The wind caused by the slamming almost took out the fire. 

As Bertholdt puts his hands on top of his eyes, trying to get some sleep. 


End file.
